A New Toy for the Angels
by UnderCollie
Summary: Drowned and killed beneath the 'Holy Bridge', a certain hybrid comes into encounter with what Reapers and Demons alike call 'the most unholy hypocrite of their own name'. As things come into action, hybrid finds he's not exactly dead anymore, nor living, either.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Threads Strung

Darkness.

Silence.

Nothing.

A sudden pain sliced at the border collie/seagull anthro's throat and then the muzzle and head of him.

/I thought I was dead! W-What is this? I was killed under the Angel's Bridge…/

A strange, multi-sexed voice sounded: /Indeed you were. Quiet, Smee… Now let me sting you up./

/String me up?/

/Quiet now, you are not alive, nor are you truly dead… All will be explained after!/

Pain sliced each winged wrist and joint up to the shoulders. More of the similar sensation took up the anthro hybrid's hips down, each joint feeling as if steel wire had cut into them. A distant sensation of blood running out of Smee's body came upon him – draining him.

Again the cutting-wire feel took up the male, this time the searing pain came over every vertebrae in his body, then every bone.

For whatever reason pain registered to him, it felt like he was being pulled apart and put back together under the flame of a welding torch. He wanted to scream, and the pain in his jawbone increased at the thought.

/Stop moving, you idiot!/

/I'm not-/

/Well, keep your thoughts down till your eyes have come back…/

/Come back?/

/Quiet!/

Silence prevailed, and only the burning sensation kept him company in the darkness. Smee began to wonder how this was possible, but the though drifted unanswered. Then, slowly, a faint grayish tint replaced the black.

Shadows formed. Color and sound came back to the hybrid, but was muffled, stupefied.

"Smee?"

A tugging on the joints of his neck and shoulders occurred, and his head was raised. The joints burned as they rolled and his head moved to face a figure glowing with a pale, silvery aura – quite painful to see at first. "Yes…?" He responded, his jaws taking the burning feel with full intensity.

Attempting to choke with his pain, he found no need for breath – nor the ability to breathe. His odd blue and brown eyed gaze shifted to the Angel before him. Smee struggled for a moment, before exhaustion and restraints bound him to an elaborate chair.

"No longer are you dead, nor are you alive. In ways you are undead, shot down on the bridge to the afterlife and hanging by your nails…" The white haired hermaphrodite snickered for a moment. "Ah, though what you are called is similar to that of a Marionette – a heavenly Doll, to be precise/."

The angel put a white gloved finger to the Hybrid Doll's chin, drawing it up so that Smee was forced to look at the being whom controlled him. "Don't be so down, hybrid. You have wings... Those similar to your father's, but wings nonetheless. Our heavenly Lord will be pleased with you come Judgment Day, Smee. The strings you bear – bear them with Pride," the Angel soothed, pulling out a small ceremonial knife and slitting both their wrists, and pressing the bloody wounds together.

At that instant, the hybrid let out a bone-chilling scream, the pain in his voice worse than the souls of those held in Purgatory. As holy blood mixed with Smee's own, a mantra played in his mind – no, more of a poem or song it seemed…

Let soul spill with blade,

Cleanse thee with thy flame.

Mortal's desire,

Extinguish in fire.

Sins of thy Devils,

Scythes of thy Reaper,

Let vanish in cleansing,

Let thy Lord be thine Shepherd,

Come Final judgment Day.

The song-like poem repeated once more and Smee's screams had ceased to sound. Instead, whimpers left the Doll's jaws and hushing noises came from the Angel, whom stroked pale fingers through Smee's soft orange hair.

"Rest. But first, I have a bit of a change for you. Your last name, I see you have none. In honor of my former mentor's beloved Drossel, you shall inherit his last name: Keinz. You may prove worthy of it soon enough."

"Yes, Master."

"I /do/ own a name, my bloody Marionette."

"Eh?..."

"Don't 'Eh' me, Keinz…"

Smee flinched back against the chair he was restrained in, cringing further as the sensation of each joint being moved resulted in severe pain. Before he could cry out, his jaws were held shut by the Angel's white gloved hand. "Don't /speak/, Hybrid. The name you will refer to me as would be Veuliam Roland."

Smee managed a painful nod when the Angell freed his muzzle.

"Now sleep, Doll."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Motives Missed

"Ah, you're awake," a voice sounded from behind the Doll.

"Yes, Veuliam."

"/Very good, Smee./" The white clad Angel moved closer to the chair-bound being, unlocking the cuffs and patting the pale ginger's head. Smee nodded slightly, but nearly growled as Veuliam's gloved hands moved along each arm and up to his shoulders. "After I complete you, Smee, I'll let you about on the tasks I have in mind for you."

"Tasks such as what?"

The Angel smirked and looked into Smee's glass eyes. "Serving our Father, of course…"

Smee flinched. "By our Father, you mean the Lord?"

The spiritual soldier gave a nod. "Indeed, I do… You see, He is /very/ real. I, only an Angel in His Heavenly Hierarchy, aim for not only perfection, but also to rise in power."

"To… what?"

"An Archangel… Have you not studied your Holy Father or self, Smee?"

"Nay."

Smee shrieked in pain, crumbling to the floor in a heap of bloody wings and fur, his master having manipulated the undead Marionette's strings to toss him down and tighten exponentially. Veuliam strode over to Smee, now trembling and bleeding on the floor, and lifted the hybrid's mechanized jaw up, so that pale amethyst eyes stared into the glass made ones of the undead.

"No good, lad. It seems I've more work to have done on your pitiful body – perhaps I won't put you under the angelic aphrodisiac bestowed before… So that I may teach as I work, see?" Smee gave a stiff nod, and the Angel again stood to control him, pulling him to his feet, letting the half-coagulated blood drip off the pale ginger's body. "What shall become of you, Smee? It was such a task of putting you back together… Now I must pull your seams out and start over? As unpleasant as it may be, it shall be done without delay."

"London Bride is falling down

Falling down, falling down.

London Bridge is falling down,

My fair lady…~"

The Angel paused his song to reposition Smee in the eccentric chair, before pulling a lever on it. The furniture moved with a /snap/ into a strange altar like table, the bindings again taking hold of Smee's wrists and angles, throat and torso as well.

"Now what to recreate you with, hmm?" the white-clad harem cooed, pressing a white gloved hand to his cheek in thought.

"Build it up with bricks and mortar,

Bricks and Mortar, bricks and mortar,

Build it up with bricks and mortar,

My fair lady…

That wouldn't be good, now would it? After all, you were killed by such things…"

Veuliam's gloved hands carefully plucked at the seams on Smee's torso, making the undead Doll whimper. Half-clotted blood seeped from the wounds as Smee's master continued, leaking out onto the ground as he was disassembled, screams echoing the dim room, long-forgotten mantras in pure Latin chanted by the Heavenly Entity…

Smee's eyelids slid open, revealing empty sockets, dried crimson fluid lining each. A small, dried line of blood marked the nude Doll's attached jaw, but Smee paid no heed, unknowing of it's presence. Instead, the Doll felt his joints guided by strings, and he moved in a mechanical way through the room and out into the hallway.

Moving through blue, red, and gold decorated hallways; Smee finally came to a door in which the presence of his Angelic Master felt strongest.

Moving on his own, he rapped at the door, making a sound similar to wood tapping against wood.

"You called, Brother Veuliam?"

"Come in, Smee."

Smee twisted open the doorknob, finding some difficulty in the motion. A grunt escaped his jaws as he stumbled awkwardly into the room sightlessly.

Strings tightened and moved the Doll's limbs and body, until Smee stood before the immortal, knowing this only by faint sense of it.

"I called, because an honorable Doll such as yourself must receive his own, personal attire… as well as your eyes, now that you've been taught and re-crafted with wood, iron, and bone."

Smee stood silently, but gave a nod in response.

"Your eyes you shall receive last, so first, I'll slip you into the personalized clothing I made for you…"

The faint sound of rustling silk and linens filled the silence, as well as the tightening of lace. After an hour or so, the angel carefully placed each glass eye in the Doll's empty eye sockets.

Smee's right hand twitched in a mechanical fashion, the joints somewhat slow, grinding. Staring into a large mirror, the Doll observed his new attire with awe.

He wore a white linen, dress shirt with pearl buttons and a white lace ruff around his throat. A navy blue tailcoat with gold trim was fitted to him, the long tails reaching the joint of his knees. A cape of the same blue and gold theme draped over his shoulders. Black silken trousers that bagged and stopped at his knees seemed to have gold-woven diamond patterns down the sides of each leg. Where his trousers ended, white and black knee-high, heeled boots were worn. On his hands, white gloves were worn.

A bit of blue in the reflection of his face caught his eye, and he realized there was a blue lotus flower painted on his left cheek. Moving a white-gloved hand to his left jaw, he stared at himself in the mirror, shocked and entranced. "A blue lotus?"

"Indeed… representing that not only are you a holy servant, but also a figure of cleansing and purity."

Smee blinked and turned to face his Higher Brother. Veuliam stood before Smee, two weapons in one hand, and a Sacrificial Holy knife and slim black box in the other. Slight shock made Smee Keinz's eyes widen as the three-tailed whip was placed in his hand, and rapier-style sword was attached to his belt with its lengthy black sheath.

The Angel smirked and held the sacrificial blade up before Smee, waving the jewel encrusted weapon slightly. "These are all yours… treat and use them with intentions of purity and cleansing. Now for this box-" Veuliam slid the Knife into the Doll's left boot and then straightened up, presenting the slender black box and opening it, to reveal a pure silver piccolo. "This is a gift. Choose how you use this on your own."

The hybrid Doll blinked, and carefully took the instrument up in his white gloved fingers, staring at it, before placing it gingerly into the pocket of his tailcoat.

Again, the holy entity surprised Smee, placing a silver pin on the right breast of his coat, emblazoned with a crucifix of gold and with a red lace at the bottom of the new ornament.

"Smee Keinz, you no longer will stay constantly in the building. Often I shall send you on missions and let you have free reign of yourself outside here – however, you are my Doll, and a Servant to myself and our Father – expect to be called and come, even if it's the worst possible time."

Smee registered this carefully, and tipped his head forwards, taking a knee. He crossed his right hand over where his heart once beat, and let his tense joints ease.

Veuliam's white-gloved hand pressed into his pale ginger hair, but the doll didn't break his poise, even after he said the three most often-said words of a butler.

"Yes, my Lord."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Black Ice

Keinz gave a flick of his feathered ears and pulled on his cape over his tailcoat. Carefully, he tied the yellow lace into a bow and put his black pair of gloves on, for this was no special outing. His blue and brown glass eyes scanned his shop for a moment, and then he swept out the door and twisted the key within the lock.

Greeted by a chilling wind of impressive force, Smee had to take a step to steady his stiff frame and keep it from bowling over in the snow-laden path. Once he was sure not to fall, the hybrid strolled down the sidewalk, observing quietly the lives of mortal man.

Several wore heavy coats and couples held tightly to one another as they came and went. People rushed for warm inns and restaurants, but he saw neither need nor desire to join them.

Smee paused for a moment, studying the ice crystals that had formed on his carrot-top hair. A thin frown marked his lips and he gave a perplexed look. Pulling a silver pocket watch and chain from his tailcoat pocket, he flipped it open and his expression became further questioning.

"I reason… I have not been out more than twenty minutes and already I am becoming damaged by ice," he grumbled without much more than a hint of annoyance in his voice. His thin, orange brown lowered, and he slipped the pocket watch into his pocket again, glaring as he upturned his muzzle to the sky. "Damned cold it is, I think."

"Damned right you are, Toymaker."

Smee twitched, caught off guard by the smooth voice. The Doll spun on his heels and faced the intruder to his space, a clear message of annoyance crossing his black and white face.

There was, in truth, two beings before him. Neither where mortal, he could see, by the blood red color of their eyes and their catlike and fiendish air.

/Demons perhaps?/

Smee tilted his head to the side, in a slight daze. He couldn't take on /two/. Not without Veuliam… not alone. Facing one would be hard enough.

Or so he was told.

So again he studied the two demons, slightly confused. One seemed to have the attire of a butler in all black, while his partner (Smee thought he was extremely small… and well suitable for turning into a Doll) was in the attire of a high-classed Earl.

"Greetings," said the taller, "This is my Lord, Earl Ciel Phantomhive. We have been having quite the wild goose chase in trying to reach you… And would like to take a look at your work. Perhaps take you on as an asset to the Funtom Company."

Smee blinked.

/Oh. Well, maybe they can give some amusement?/

The Toymaker and Angel's Butler gave a deep bow, in acknowledgement to his lower class and state as a Butler. Upon rising, Smee looked to the young Phantomhive Earl, and motioned with a hand to follow.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Red Eyed Guests

The Hybrid Doll closed the door behind them, shutting out the freezing London air beyond. The Phantomhive Earl and Butler peered at the shelves, appearing to hold a light of curiosity in their red eyes.

"You hope for business with my modest self, the Blue Lotus Toymaker?"

The shorter Demon turned and gave Smee a long look. The Hybrid only met his blood-red gaze. "I reason such… no malice lingers in your dark gazes."

Now the taller demon faced Smee, a small smile on his lips. "Perhaps we do… But a tour of your shop, a bit of getting to know one another would be necessary for recruitment, yes?"

Smee blinked.

/Recruitment… Oh, yes./

The anthro collie seagull gave another slow blink, trying to pick out the meanings they offered.

"A tour should suit just fine for the current moment, I am thinking… Now, what are your names? A Toymaker and servant must know in order to receive you properly as guests."

The shorter of the two gave an irritated twitch, and glared at Smee. Beside him, the black clad gentleman chuckled softly. "Mr. Keinz, I believe we had told you outside, did we not?"

Smee flinched and attempted to recall, and failed. /Had they told their names?/ he thought in confusion. It was very possible they had…

"I… I cannot recall, though you may have. Please, it slipped my mind."

"I am Sebastian Michaelis, servingman of the young Earl, Ciel Phantomhive. Might I add he is the head of the Funtom Toy Corporation," the tallest announced, a flair of drama in his way of telling.

A small dip of his head showed he now understood, and he moved to the desk of his shop. Taking out a notepad and dipping his pen in his inkwell, he scrawled down the name of the company and the two he had within his shop. Moving the notes aside, and turning to Ciel and Sebastian, Smee gave a deep bow. In turn his cape and the tails of his coat rustled, and the large yellow feather in his hair bobbed. He rose and gestured with a black gloved hand to the shelves set on every wall but the one behind his desk.

"Welcome to the Blue Lotus… There are no prices listed for any of my toys, for I alone choose their toll."

He spun on his heels and strode toward a display table, on which stood a small collection of wind up soldiers in red and blue uniforms. He picked one up an wound its key, before setting it on the floor. The toy soldier marched towards the Phantomhive Butler, and the ravenette took up the plaything.

"You make these all by hand?"

Smee nodded and allowed his chest to puff out some in pride. "Indeed… every single detail to the very gears that turn my moving toys – I make them all."

The Earl looked at the toy for a bit, then touched the Blue Lotus hallmark that was painted and carved onto the toy's right cheek. "This your trademark?"

"Hmm?"

Smee turned around again to face his guests, having started to inspect a toy that had a small smudge on it. He found his wrists held by the Black clad butler, and felt the soft white glove against his cheek, where the Blue Lotus hallmark also resided. A small shiver found the doll, and he looked into Michaelis' bloody red eyes, his own holding only the cold glint of glass.

Sebastian's hand traced the symbol on Smee's cheek, before he leaned in, eyes narrowed. "You're wearing your own mark…" the grip on Smee's wrists tightened, feeling. "Just as well, you seem to be… more odd than the /last/ doll we've seen."

"Wha-?"

The demon butler smirked and loosened his grip on Smee's wrists. The Doll stared at the two Demons, Earl and Butler, thin orange brows raised in shock and his jaws held slightly ajar.

He clamped his jaws shut and winced at the pain. He shook his head and rolled his wrists uncomfortably, thinking.

/Master Veuliam had given me a last name in honor of his mentor's Doll. I have not heard of any other beside myself and poor Drossel…/

"I am thinking that you have met Drossel Keinz, Doll of Ash Landers?"

This time Ciel answered:"Yes… We where the ones to dispose of that perverse Doll… as well as the Angel whom mastered it."

The collie seagull hybrid gave a low whistle. "I would have ne'er thought you'd have interest in Holy affairs, being the Devils you are."

"And yet we do,"Lord Phantomhive retorted.

Smee moved his black gloved hands as if to push something gently to the floor. "I reason we may leave that in the past, being that said things are done with…"

Sebastian gave a side glance to his Lord, and Ciel shook his head. At seeing that, Smee mentally gave a sigh of great relief.

"Back to the tour," Keinz announced, leaving behind the shelves and tables with the many priceless toys, and moved for his desk. His black and white heeled boots clicked against the wooden floorboards, and he noticed his guests' shoes also emitted similar results. As he moved behind his desk, he sat in his well-favored chair.

The desk and frame of the chair where both of well carved oak, and the cushioning to the seat was covered with black velvet. Smee seemed to have a strong liking to these objects, for having them crafted for him was no cheap dealing.

He leaned back in his chair, and pulled out a match for the candle that sat on his desk's left wing. Striking the match and lighting the candle with ease, the objects on his workspace where illuminated. Carving knives and screwdrivers where neatly arranged by size and use, and several paintbrushes of various types where also present alongside a few pens and inkwells.

Laying unfinished on a mat of leather, where sets of bones from both the left and right hands. Also a few sturdy leather straps were set aside with eight small rods of steel no more than an inch in length.

"Here I am working on something for myself, for the joints of my wrists neglect to roll and pivot correctly."

Smee removed the black gloves from his hands and he displayed his jointed hands and wrists, crafted of wood. He moved each joint with difficulty, and then looked up at Ciel and Sebastian, a brow raised in an unamused look of annoyance. "Being in the professions I am, joints like these in the hands are a need-to-go. Sebastian, I'm sure you see how?" he offered, extending a hand to the demon butler with carelessness. "Oiling them is tiring, and I have found better substitutions…"he murmured, tipping his muzzle to the unfinished works on his crafting space.

Sebastian took the offered hand, testing each joint and taking careful note of the materials that made them up: steel and wood.

"I agree that it would be quite difficult to work under such pitiful circumstances… But I fail to understand why /I/ would be the best candidate to know why, for I am merely one /hell/ of a Butler."

Smee nodded and looked up at the black clad male, whose outfit was so dull in comparison to the attire he wore himself. "Why, Mr. Michaelis, I too assume the position of Butler… just more of a divine sort."

The Phantomhive Earl gave a yawn. "Seems likely, for the intoxicating incense that lingers about you is of Holy origin… I smelled it as we walked into your shop."

The Hybrid Doll stared at the Demons in silence for a while, then stood, waving a hand over the candle to kill the flame. The scent of burning wood filled the air, Smee knew, but in fact could not actually smell anything as the flame was illuminated between his now-scorched fingers.

"Another reason to change these hands…"

Sebastian and his master seemed to have not cared much for the comment; however it brought forth a curious question from Ciel. "Mr. Keinz… where exactly did you find the bones for those hands?"

Smee looked over at the young Earl, expression blank of emotion. Faking a yawn, the Doll responded: "A curious Undertaker I had gone to in order for help in the aspect of my hands, and he gave me them. Free of most charges!"

"'Most charges', Mr. Keinz?" The butler asked.

"He desired a good laugh… Sure enough I gave him one… Oh, he was absolutely /howling/ with laughter after what I'd shown," he chuckled dryly.

The Doll stood and flicked his feathered ears, pulling on the black gloves he had taken off. "Now, you wish to recruit me, yes?"

Ciel gave a stiff nod. "Your works are well crafted, and I was wondering if you could make a few products, seeing that my current toymakers have /too much/ on their hands already. Now, Sebastian, shall we leave for the Manor?"

Sebastian nodded and led his master out. Smee watched quietly from the window of his shop as the Earl climbed into the cabin after telling his butler something. Sebastian hurried to the shop and opened the door, poking his head in.

"If you accept the offer of recruitment, come to the Phantomhive Manor at 6 tomorrow evening."

With that, the Demon butler hurried into the cabin and the carriage left, just as the door to his shop eased shut again, and Smee locked it from the inside.

/Thank God Veuliam returns tonight/, the Hybrid Marionette thought, running a nervous hand through his fiery orange hair.


End file.
